


Teardrop

by lola381pce



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Serious Injuries, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:31:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lola381pce/pseuds/lola381pce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her hand hovered over him and finally rested on his cheek. He let out a small noise, somewhere between a sob and whimper and she bit back her own tears as she felt a single teardrop from him run down his face into her palm; The Black Widow didn’t cry but it was the closest she’d come in a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teardrop

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware there are descriptions of serious injuries resulting from implied torture for one of the team. It’s a dark tale but there is light and love at the end, I promise.
> 
> Not completely up there with spy / forces protocols but I would reckon teams probably have their own shorthand when communicating by radio. There is nothing secret about the acronyms and abbreviations I’ve used and they’re probably well known but just in case:
> 
> EP - extraction point  
> ETA - estimated time of arrival  
> LKP - last known position  
> Sit Rep - situation report  
> Mis Per – missing person(s)
> 
> Thanks for reading and your comments are always welcome.

_Five hours into Operation Fuck Up (officially designated Yankee Zulu Tango five niner niner)…_

“Evac at EP. Teams sound off and advise ETA.”

Silence.

“Coulson, sit rep.”

Silence.

“Support, sit rep.”

Silence.

“Avengers, sit rep.”

“Black Widow heading for EP; ETA 20.”

“Hawkeye heading for EP; ETA 20.”

“Rogers heading for EP; ETA 20.”

“Iron Man very pissed off coz he has to walk to EP. ETA fuck knows…probably 20 seeing he’s with Legolas, Ginger Snaps and Captain Popsicle. Goddamn EMP. Goddamn H.Y.D.R.A.”

 “Coulson, sit rep.”

Silence.

“Repeat. Coulson, sit rep.”

Silence.

“Evac, Hawkeye returning to mis per’s LKP.”

“Negative, Hawkeye. Head for EP.”

“Negative. Returning to LKP.”

“Repeat: Negative Hawkeye, maintain heading for EP.”

“With all due respect, fuck you Evac. Hawkeye out.”

“Black Widow returning to LKP.”

“Negative Black Widow. Maintain heading.”

Silence.

“’We’re staying, we’re going, we’re staying, we’re going, make up your mind.’ Ah fuckit! Iron Man returning to LKP.”

 “Eh…Rogers also returning to LKP. Sorry Evac.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously?”

“Rogers requesting extended extraction time.”

“Oh sure…like I have a choice? Advise when heading to EP. Evac out.”

***

The four Avengers (Banner was not required for this particular mission and Thor was back in Asgard) headed back to Coulson’s last known position to find no trace of him, the support team or of H.Y.D.R.A. other than his empty SUV and a mess of tyre tracks. There was however evidence of a serious gun battle with bullet holes in the vehicle, spent casings and blood, lots of blood, both inside and outside the Acura.

Hawkeye turned to the Black Widow with a stricken look on his face. “Fuck Nat…they have him.”

She held his hand and rested her forehead against his saying, “Yes, Little Bird. I think they do.”

Rogers took charge of the situation requesting satellite surveillance of the area and monitoring of Coulson’s and the support team’s tracking devices. S.H.I.E.L.D. Ops came back quickly advising that satellite surveillance and monitoring were already in progress; no trackers had been activated as yet.  There was no sign of the other vehicles with the live satellite feed; they would analyse earlier data and get back ASAP but it would take a while.

“Fuck!” Barton stomped on the SUV hard enough to rip the front wheel arch off.

No-one spoke for a few minutes then Rogers radioed back to Evac his voice heavy and tired.

“Evac, Avengers heading to EP; ETA 45.”

***

_Plus two hours…_

The Quinjet landed on the helicarrier flight deck and The Avengers disembarked to be met by Director Fury himself.

“What happened?” he asked quietly. That unsettled everyone. You knew where you were when Fury ranted and raved but when he was quiet he was at his most dangerous. And right now, his One Good Eye was missing presumed captured.

“It was fucked up.” Stark said throwing his faceplate at a bulkhead. “The place was swarming with H.Y.D.R.A. agents. They were waiting for us.”

“They definitely knew we were coming,” agreed Rogers. “Everything started out as planned then all hell broke loose. Coulson…” he paused looking down at his hands. “Coulson told us to get out and head to the extraction point.  He and the support team would meet us there.”

“They hit me with an EMP. My suits are shielded against EMPs so how the fuck did they manage to knock me out the sky with one? I couldn’t do anything. I’m out of here. I need to work on this. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t... Fuck!” He stormed away to his lab on the helicarrier.

“Romanoff? Barton?”

Romanoff shook her head; she had nothing else to add.

As if hearing her thoughts Barton spoke “Nothing to add, sir. Except why the fuck don’t we have a location yet? Why are those fucking desk jockeys just sitting around with their thumbs up their asses?”

Fury made no comment; even knowing the data analysts were doing a great deal more than “sitting around with their thumbs up their asses” he felt the same way himself.

***

_Plus seven hours…_

“Director, we have a location on Coulson’s transmitter,” Hill advised Fury over the comms. “Nothing on Jablonski or Samuels as yet.”

“You’re up,” Fury told Romanov and Barton and they headed to the Quinjet.

It was some good news at least. Although the data analysts had been able to confirm Coulson, Jablonski and Samuels had been taken by a group with several large SUVs and army trucks, they couldn’t positively determine who’d gone in which vehicle; worse than that the trucks had separated and gone down different dirt track roads before disappearing into thick jungle. The hope was that heat signatures would show up on infrared which was now being used.

***

_Plus ten hours…_

“Romanoff to base.”

“Base. Report.” It was Fury’s voice.

“Nothing. Repeat nothing. No trace of any friendlies.”

“Goddamn. Acknowledged. Return to base.”

***

_Plus nineteen hours…_

Another short transmission burst then silence. Strike Team Delta headed back out.

“Barton to base.”

“Base. Report” Once again it was Fury who spoke.

“Nothing. Repeat nothing. Location deserted.”

“Fuck! Acknowledged. Return to base.” Another dead end.

***

_Plus twenty seven hours…_

“Romanoff to base.

“Base. Report.” This time it was Hill picking up comms.

“Two friendlies found. Medical assistance not required. Bringing them home. Coulson still missing.”

“Acknowledged Romanoff. Return to base.”

***

_Plus thirty six hours…_

Barton and Romanoff were pacing around the helicarrier terrifying anyone who accidentally happened upon them. Neither of them could settle. They’d managed to catnap on and off but the discovery of Jablonski’s and Samuels’s bodies had disturbed them both.  They’d worked with the two agents many times over the past three years and they were good people. That and the fact they still hadn’t found Coulson yet was shredding every last nerve they had.  Why the fuck was it taking so long? How could they have disappeared? The more time he was out there…

***

_Plus sixty four hours…_

Two more unsuccessful searches later, Romanoff and Barton had infiltrated the sixth identified location without being spotted and had begun surveillance of the heavily shielded compound; they weren’t picking up any readings with their monitoring equipment so whatever was going on in there it must be big. It was certainly the most promising lead they’d had since Coulson had been taken. There were people milling around and the deeper in they got it was obvious experiments were being carried out in various labs throughout the buildings. Scarily it had been found by accident; the satellite was in the right place at the right time and had observed several trucks entering the well-hidden base just before all activity outside halted making it invisible again. It had been noticeable for only a few moments and if an analyst hadn’t been watching the feed intently at the time it could have been easily missed.

The pair agreed before they entered the first building that even if Coulson wasn’t here, and please god let him be here, it would be wise to call in strike teams to take care of the place. Barton did the honours.

“Barton to base. Requesting back-up to LKP. There’s some shit going on here you’re going to be interested in.”

“Base. Acknowledged. Birds heading your way.”

“Did someone sing my song?” It was Stark. “Don’t start the party without me Legolas. Oh and I hope you don’t mind but I’m bringing some friends. There’s a green guy here who wants to do some serious smashing.”

“More the merrier, dude. Just get a fucking shift on.”

***

It was slow going as they tried to avoid H.Y.D.R.A. personnel whiled searching for Coulson so Barton and Romanoff had split up in the basement of building one to cover more ground in a shorter period.  Romanoff was checking every room she came to quickly but carefully, so far they’d all been empty. Midway along the corridor she came across yet another locked door and paused to open it with her lock picks.  She looked in and this time she saw someone in the corner. He was naked and on his knees, his arms secured behind him with a pole between his elbows running across his back forcing his arms into an unnatural and uncomfortable position. He was blindfolded, his head hanging down and he appeared to be in poor condition, filthy and covered in blood both old and new.

She walked slowly towards him when she heard a voice. She paused. Once more the voice croaked a word...no a name…her name “Tasha.” She flinched.

“Phil?”

She moved quickly to him and knelt down in front of him careful not to touch.

“боже мой! Phil.”

Gently she removed the blindfold wanting nothing more than to look into those blue eyes but he couldn’t lift his head.

“It’s me, Phil.”

Her hand hovered over him and finally rested on his cheek. He let out a small noise, somewhere between a sob and whimper and she bit back her own tears as she felt a single teardrop from him run down his face into her palm; The Black Widow didn’t cry but it was the closest she’d come in a long time.

Knowing a signal was unlikely she still tried to contact base. If she couldn’t get through, she’d find Barton and he’d make the call from outside.

“Romanoff to base. I have him.”

Occasionally, the gods smiled upon them. She picked up a faint, crackly response.

“Base. Say again.”

“Repeat, I have him. Immediate extraction requested. Urgent medical assist required.”

“Base. We’ll get medics there ASAP but there’s a hell of a fire fight going on at your position right now. Can you move him?”

“Negative and with all due respect I suggest you cut a fucking path through it immediately! Out.”

Talking to him gently she looked Coulson over taking note of the injuries he’d sustained during what appeared to be several brutal and prolonged beatings: a couple of nasty head wounds including a bullet graze probably from when he’d been captured; severe bruising to his face and over most of his body overlaid with contusions and lacerations; cracked if not broken ribs; possible broken fingers on both hands; a dislocated shoulder made worse by the position he was in and going by the swelling in his neck and back many of his muscles were in spasm.

She knew he must be suffering but there was nothing she could do to help him. If she was to move him now, without an IV or pain meds or equipment to brace his injuries, he could go into shock. As much as she wanted to make him more comfortable she knew she had to leave him exactly as he was for the medical team who would have everything he needed; she prayed they’d be here soon.

Romanoff moved a little closer to him giving him the opportunity to rest his head on her if he was able. Although it sent waves of searing agony through him Coulson pressed his forehead into the curve of her neck, the contact was more important to him than the pain; pain meant he was alive, contact meant he was safe.

Natasha sang softly to him stroking his hair. It was a Russian lullaby Coulson had heard her sing to Barton sometimes when he was stressed. He understood why it calmed the archer, all he wanted to do right now was to close his eyes and fall asleep but even the slightest movement was torment. He was thankful Natasha hadn’t tried to shift him. The thought of it made him want to throw up but at least when the time came the medics would have drugs which would dull the pain for a while.

“Tasha?” Said a small almost childlike voice from the doorway, it was Clint.

“He’s going to be okay, Little Bird, but I need you to do something for me.” He walked over to them wincing when he saw Coulson’s condition.

“Sure Tasha.”

“Don’t let anyone through that door unless it’s the medical team. Can you do that?”

“What about the guys?”

“No-one, Little Bird.”

“Okay.” Before he took up his station at the door he knelt beside Natasha and tenderly kissed Coulson’s head putting all his love into that one instant.

“We’ll take care of you now, Phil” he whispered.

Coulson’s cracked lips turned up in the barest of smiles. He was going to make it. His team, his family, had come to take him home.

**Author's Note:**

> The quote that Stark uses when they're heading back to Phil's last known position is said by Rockhound in’ Armageddon’ when they’re on the comet preparing to leave.


End file.
